


King of the Sword

by ElizaFelidae



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Actually Lots of Death in General, Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempted Sexual Assault, Backstory, Blood and Torture, Broken Bones, Butts, Cheating Altaïr, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Parents, Death, Drowning, Eventual Maltaïr/Altmal, Feels, Forgiveness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise it's not, I want to be remembered for this story., Implied/Referenced Suicide, Interrogation, Loss of Limbs, Loss of loved ones, Lots and lots of Butts, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nightmares, Not so friendly competition, Physical Abuse, Please Don't Hurt Me, Please Don't Kill Me, Please enjoy!, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Riots, Serious Injuries, Shameless Smut, Slavery, Swearing, Templars suck, Verbal Abuse, Violence, butts make me happy, dubcon, man these tags make this story look like a gore and torture fest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaFelidae/pseuds/ElizaFelidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik and Kadar are left orphaned and enslaved after Templars destroy their way of life. After being rescued by the brotherhood, they become Al-Mualim's newest students. Life is still hard though, and the lives ahead of them promise violence, and an early death. However Malik won't back down, even through the challenges that a novice endures and the constant hostility he's faced with from Al-Mualim's favorite, Altaïr. His only goal is to make sure that his brother is never put in harm's way again, and that his revenge is served in full.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bridle

* * *

The morning air was cold and quiet. There was a light mist over the valley where a tribe of nomadic horsemen, desended from the northern most part of Assyria, had stopped to rest for the previous night. All of the members were asleep in the warm safety of their fur covered tents, while a ring of horses began to wake and busy themselves with patches of dew soaked grass. Nearby a young eagle gave a cry before swooping down to snatch up and carry away an unfortunate vole.

The cry was just enough to rouse one of the young boys awake and open his chocolate colored eyes. The boy, who was about eleven years in age, gave a strained yawn before rubbing his eyes and sitting up, his dark brown, almost black hair, tussled and sticking up in some places because of his slumber.

His family lay around him, his mother and father to his left, and younger brother of six, which if not for the obvious age difference, could be considered his twin, to his right; all three were still fast asleep.

He turned to look out of the tent's small opening to find that the sun had not yet risen and that he was in fact the only one awake. The boy groaned softly as he realized just how early he had woken and laid down by his brother, pulling the fur blanket around himself tightly to try and keep warm in the chilly morning

Beside him, the boy's brother began to fidget and suck on his thumb, which accourding to the eldest was childish and should be a habit that his brother had outgrown.

The boy scrunched up his nose as he watched the younger boy and attempted to pull his brother's arm away without waking him. The younger whimpered softly once his tumb was taken but didn't fuss any further and stilled.

The older brother sighed in relief and felt his eyes growing heavy again. It would be pointless to fall asleep again since it was nearly time for the tribe to get up and pack everything away for the journey ahead that day; but the boy was willing to try and sneak just a few more minutes in and snuggled up closer to his brother, stealing his body heat as he drifted off.

It was only half an hour before the boy was awoken again, this time by his mother, who was gently shaking him.

"Malik dear, it's time to get up." She said in a sweet tone, brushing hair out of Malik's face, and smoothing the rest of it down decently.

The boy, Malik, groaned but obeyed and stretched out before sitting up and shaking his little brother awake.

"Kadar c-mon..." he murmured sleepily. "It's morning." He added before stiffling a yawn.

The younger groaned and whined before finally opening up his bright blue eyes, uncommon in this part of the world. Kadar mewled and rubbed his sparkling blue orbs.

"I don' wanna..." he complained, trying to hide under his blankets.

Malik simply rolled his eyes and grinned. "Well, if you don't get up now, I guess that means I'll get to eat your breakfast, and you wont get any." He teased, this would usually make Kadar wake up and start the day, and today was no different.

Kadar immediately jumped up and pointed an accusing finger at Malik. "You'd better not, or I'll kick you at night!" He pouted.

Malik laughed lightly and and stood, helping his brother up. "C-mon, father's already waiting for us." He chimed, leading his brother out of the tent, towards the horses that game them such a proud legacy.

Their father was already busy, helping others take down their tents and pack up for the day ahead, he was the chief, and as such, he was expected to help with the major chores, while the more minor things fell to his two sons.

Malik was to saddle, bridle, and prepare the horses while Kadar fed and watered. It was simple enough, but still a big job for an eleven and six year old; espescially since there were dozens of the beasts, each with their own personality and preferences.

Kadar hummed lightly as he pet one of the horses, having finished with his duty. Malik was nearly finished with his, though a few of the most stubborn refused to stay in one place and made sure that Malik was frustrated beyond reason before allowing him to finish his job.

"I swear, they're doing on purprose." He panted, finally readying the last horse and going to sit beside his brother. Kadar smiled and shook his head.

"I don't think so, they're too sweet." He replied with a smile, wrapping his small arms around the horse's muzzle.

Malik rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Thats because you never pet the stupid ones, you just like to pet the good ones, so you don't know." Malik huffed and wiped the light sheet of sweat off his forehead then stood. "C-mon, it's time for breakfast, we'll be leaving soon." He added, taking Kadar's hand.

The two walked hand and hand back to their tent, which was mostly put away, save for the cooking supplies. Their mother smiled when she saw them return and gave them both a kiss on the forehead before handing them both a bowl of grain meal mixed with goat milk and a loaf of bread. She then sat down in the grass with them to share the meal.

She was young woman, with few lines to mark her, though she was nearing her peak; a few stray gray hairs peeked out of her fading raven colored hair, and her normally vibratnt chocolate eyes that her oldest son had inherited were now dulled and more akin to fine soil. She was still however, in the full sense of the word, beautiful.

She had a pure, honest heart and taught her children the things she believed were true and important, such as honesty and gentleness, but also courage and the strength to protect those you loved. Most of all, she taught them to love and cherish each other.

"Youre father is leading us into Asia now, we're going to trade horses in Mongolia." She smiled as they ate. "It's a beautiful land, but cold. You two will have to be strong, understand?" She asked gently.

Malik nodded with a grin, and in turn, caused Kadar to nod as well, a large smile growing on his face to mimic his big brother.

Their mother smiled and sighed softly in content. "You two are growing up so fast. I wish you would stay little like this for a while longer." She said, a bit of longing in her voice.

Malik paused mid chew and had to surpress a laugh, who would want to be a kid when you could grow up to be a powerful, respectable adult? "I wanna grow up faster." He replied, taking a large bite of his meal. "Then I can become the chief and you and father can be together all day long." He puffed out his chest, eager to for the pride the role of chief would bring.

Kadar grinned and puffed out his chest as well. "I'm gunna be chief too!" He declared.

"You can't be chief, only one person can be chief and I'm older than you!" Malik scolded, Kadar pouted and ate his food quietly.

"You two shouldn't argue about such things, you both have a ways to go before either one of you even need to think about becoming chief." Their mother interjected You should enjoy your youth while it's here." She added with a small smile.

Malik isn't sure what's so great about being a kid, he doesn't feel like he's very important, all he does is bridle horses!

There are a couple other children in the tribe, but Malik is the oldest, and the others are all closer to Kadar's age; so there's not much worth in playing with them.

Their mother seemed to realize the dilema inside her son's head and smiled. "Don't worry Malik, it won't be much longer until you're a man, but since you aren't remember your greatest duty is to your brother. Protect him, watch over him, and love him." She said gently,

Malik nodded and sighed softly while turning to Kadar, his little brother grinned back and Malik couldn't help the smile that came.

Yes his mother was right. He would push down his desire to grow up and wait, for his brother's sake. He swore silently to do everything in his power to keep his little brother safe and happy. He swore to make his parents proud. Most of all he swore to himself to be the best he could be, to protect Kadar.

Overhead, the same young eagle from earlier in the morning circled the sky, searching for more easy prey. It passed over the small group of nomads and flew towards another camp. This camp was larger, and was filled with dangerous predators, predators that were ready to strike and sought out the nomads as their prey.

The eagle gave a cry and spun around, seeing no prey, he decided to fly back to his nest. He wouldn't make it though, and gave a harsh cry as an arrow pierced him. He fell to the earth and landed with a thud, dead. The predators, templars, were hunting.

Malik finished his meal quietly, their mother had long since finished and was packing away the last of their things. And Kadar's interest had been captured by a grasshopper near his feet. The air grew chilly, though the mist was finally starting to clear and sunlight began to peak through. Malik's stomach twisted for some reason, and he stood, moving closer to Kadar, the need to defend growing stong for some strange reason.

"Mom?..." he called out, grabbing Kadar's hand and pulling him close.

Their mother stood and wiped her hands on a piece of cloth. "What is it Malik?" She asked, smiling.

Malik hesitated, could she not feel that something was wrong? "Where's dad?" He asked.

Their mother was about to reply when a loud whinny broke through the quiet.

Malik turned to see what the commotion was and tilted his head when he saw his father, mounted on a horse, riding away from them.

"Father?! Mom, where's dad going?" He asked, feeling dread coil inside him. His mother stood by them, just as confused and anxious as her son.

"Malik. Take youre brother to a horse, mount it, I'll be there shortly." She ordered, turning away to go and alert others to be wary and watch for danger.

Malik hesitated but obeyed and trotted with his brother to a painted mare they usually rode. He helped Kadar up before hauling himself into the saddle. After seating himself, Malik took the reins and began walking her in the direction of their father.

"Malik, where's dad? Why did he go?" Kadar asked, staring up at his brother.

Malik's jaw tightened, he had no answer for him and was growing worried for him and his mother, the coiling inside him grew tight and he swallowed hard. "He'll be back, don't worry. I'm here for you anyway, so it'll be ok."

A shrill squeal startled both the brothers, as well as the normally docile mare. The horses nose flares and ears pinned back as she tossed her head in distress. Malik looked back behind him, shivers shooting down his spine as he tried to find out why the noise had been made.

Fire, so much fire. It was everywhere! Burning, choking, blinding fire! It consumed the camp and had already claimed two lives, Malik saw and grew sick as he recognized their bodies, faces chared black with shrivled up flesh, their clothes were gone and their bodies were blistered and only patches of them remained untouched. Why? What had happened?!

There was a shout, a battle cry and Malik jumped as a man on horseback lept through the flames on horseback, brandishing a bleeding sword. This man was not a part of the family, and Malik's heart clentched with fear as he recognized the red cross upon the white uniform of a templar.

"Mom!" He squeaked, unable to help himself. Kadar tried to look back but Malik held him in place. "Close your eyes Kadar, the smoke!" He made up the excuse as he turned the unwilling mare around and rode back into the caos, desperate to find their mother.

Kadar squeezed his eyes shut and Malik held him to his chest with one arm while racing through the smoke. He panted hard and grit his teeth hard, panic coursing through him.

"Mom!!" He yelled looking around frantically. There was so much blood, so much death, Malik felt his blood run cold as he recogbized all the bodies around him, two were children, the only others in the tribe, Kadar's playmates.

Malik felt like he was going to throw up and forced himself to look away, tears threatened to show and he bit his tongue to hold everything back. Surely their mother hadn't met the same fate.

The smoke broke suddenly as a templar, mounted on horseback ran past. It felt like slow motion for both sides as both had appeared out of nowhere for the other. Malik's heart raced and the blood in his ears rang so loudly that he swore he could hear nothing else as he looked into the eyes of the templar. They were full of nothing but hate and greed, no room for sympathy or kindness. His skin was pale, the palest Malik had ever seen, almost as white as the snow that sometimes fell in winter. Malik felt his body lock up in fear and if the templar wished, he could've slaughtered Malik and Kadar in that moment, and Malik wouldn't even have been able to react.

It was by shear luck that the templar didn't have his sword ready, and the two were spared as the horses sped off in opposite directions.

Malik released the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and swallowed hard to push down the bile that threatened to rise. Things were out of control, and there was nothing he could do to fix things. "Mo-om! His voice cracked and he gripped the reins tightly, looking around frantically.

Kadar began to whimper and cry as the screams grew louder and louder. It became an overwelming chorus and even Malik was haunted by it.

Another templar appeared from the smoke, but this time they were on a collision course, and the two beasts crashed into one another, throwing their riders and falling to the earth. The templar's horse had broken it's neck and was dead while Malik's had broken it's leg badly, a death sentence in itself.

Malik gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of him, he forced his body to move and scrambled to Kadar, who had fallen nearby. Instinct was the only thing that kept him going, that, and the promise he'd made his mother so many times before.

Kadar was wailing now and clung to Malik like a lifeline when he reached him. It was too much for the young boys to take in, and something no child should ever have to witness.

The templar swore loudly in a foreign tongue that Malik couldn't understand, and stood with his sword raised, he was ready to kill and had his eyes set on the two brothers.

Malik struggled to make his body do what his mind instructed, those eyes, they were terrifying. He ground out an order for Kadar to get up and run while he hauled himself to his feet, but the templar was already upon them. The sword flashed as it was swung towards the brothers and Malik flinched, turning to shield his brother from the blow.

There was a shout of anger and Malik looked back to see that their mother was indeed alive. She held a sword in her hand and was fending off their attacker, screaming and swearing at the templar for trying to hurt her children.

Malik felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, she was alive, they would all be safe now.

Their mother snarled as she fought, firece and skilled with her sword. Malik had never seen this side of her, but it was amazing. The templar would strike and she'd jump aside in the nick of time and bring her sword up to clash with his. The templar had been trained for battle, but he had made a mistake, he'd tried to kill mother bear's cubs, and now the claws and teeth had come out to defend them.

It felt like what he was watching wasn't real, Malik still clutched Kadar close and his jaw fell slavk as their mother stabbed the sword deep into the templar's torso, not fatal, but it caused the templar to cry out in agony and fall.

Their mother let go of the sword, still embeded inside the templar, and turned to her children. "Run you two! Now!" She yelled, grabbing Malik's wrist, nearly dragging him along as she ran. The two stumbled and panted as they tried to keep up with her, focusing only on her feet and the amount of steps it was taking to get away.

The smoke began to thin though and Malik felt his spirits lift, they would make it!

What he didn't know, was that the templars had already ensnared the group of survivors, driving them into the fires or slaughtering them if they tried to escape, the smoke and caos made it seem like there was an escape hole and their mother fell into the trap. The trio had barely made it out into the safety of the open before a templar was upon them, anticipating their attempt at escape.

Malik gasped and fell back as the templar charged at them, sword raised and grinning wildly.

In a final attempt to protect her sons, their mother stepped up, shielding them with her body as the sword struck, piercing her chest and puncturing her lung.

Malik's breath left him, and he immediately covered Kadar's eyes and ears, watching with horror as the templar pulled the sword free and their mother sank to her knees, clutching at the wound.

"Mom..." he squeaked softly, grabbing her last bit of attention.

She turned her head towards her eldest son and opened her mouth. "Live." She ordered hoarsely, blood falling from her lips. Her eyes rolled up and she gave a pitiful groan before falling forward onto the blood stained grass. Her body moved once, twice, three times, then went painfully still.

Malik felt his heart skip several beats and he opened his mouth, as if to scream at the horror in front of him, yet nothing came out, too shocked to even squeak. Their mother was dead, right there in front of them. She had been alive just a few moments ago, she had eaten breakfast with them that morning, he had laid beside her the night before. Now she was gone.

Kadar began to tremble and his wails grew louder, he didn't know what had happened, but he was already afraid and wanted nothing more than to be with the ones he loved.

"Kadar..." Malik choked out. Kadar, his greatest duty, his mother's most important order, and his most important promise. He had to get Kadar away from here, he had to protect Kadar. He had to obey his mother. "Kadar!" Malik gasped, trying to rise up on his feet; he couldn't though, his eyes remained locked on his mother's body, even as the templar stepped over her towards them. His body wouldn't move.

The templar growled as he reached the two boys, still too shaken to even run. Malik held his breath as the man who murdered his mother, grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, lifting him up until his feet came off the ground.

Their eyes locked and Malik shuddered, grabbing at the man's hands. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it, his body refused to work and even if it did, Malik was so overwelmed by what he had just witnessed to even formulate a plan to get him and his brother away.

"My brother..." he squeaked, watching as the templar pressed his sword to his torso, he could feel the cold of the blade as well as the sharpness of it; the feeling of it made him want to be sick. "Please spare my brother!" He managed to say before his voice abandoned him. A shudder ran through his body as a sob managed to break from him.

The templar hesitated then smirked, he pulled his sword away and sheathed it before lifting Malik up higher.

The boy's breath quickened and he watched the templar fearfully as he opened his mouth and attempted to speak in rough, broken arabic.

"Behave now, listen and live. Be good, or you'll get this!" He said harshly. An instant later pain exploded through Malik as the templar smashed his fist into his face, dropping him to the ground and delivering a harsh kick that wrenched a pained cry from the boy.

A hand fisted in his hair and Malik hissed through his teeth as the templar pulled him up by his hair. "Let me go!" He spat, grabbing at the templars grimey hands.

"Malik!" Kadar yelped, and Malik snarled as the templar grabbed hold of Kadar's arm, dragging them along without trouble, even though both were struggling to get away.

"Let him go you! You, you bastard!!" Malik shouted, testing out the word he'd heard, but was told never to use.

The templar didn't react in the slightest and just kept pulling the two along until they neared a small group of survivors that were surrounded by their attackers.

The templar pulled them towards the group and threw the brothers into the circle of captives. Malik snarled and turned, ready to defend his brother with his bare hands.

Kadar imediately latched on to Malik and whimpered fearfully, staring at the destruction around them.

The fires had begun to die down, and the smoke started to clear. Malik watched in disgust as the templars stole away the few possestions that his people had. Several went to gather up the war worthy horses and captured those that were still alive quickly.

People wept and held onto those that remained, Malik drew Kadar close, shielding him from what he saw. There were only a dozen or so left alive, everyone else he knew, lay dead before his eyes.

It was painful to look at. People that he had known his whole life were gone. Only a few feet away, he recognized the body of his aunt and uncle, both had been cut down with swords and died in each others arms. Blood still seeped onto the ground around their corpses and Malik realized with a sickened heart, that they had been stabbed multiple times, just for the pleasure of it.

A woman screamed as she was drug out of her hiding spot amongst the rumble. The greedy templars tore at her clothes and took turns having their way with her before slitting her throat. Malik couldn't bear to think about it, that woman had taught him how to ride, and track prey.

And then there was their mother...

Malik couldn't hold himself together any longer and pushed Kadar aside as he wretched, losing everything in his stomach until there was nothing but buring acid at the back of his throat. A sob fell from his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut while tears welled up, slipping down his cheeks in large beads.

Kadar whimpered and began to cry as well, confused by his brother's sudden change as well as the confusion all around them, he didn't see what happened to their mother and clung to Malik while calling for her.

The morning dragged on as the templars picked off the remaining survivors one by one, killing them or capturinf them, bringing them to the rest that had been taken. Once the last of the survivors had been taken care of, they turned to plundering everything they could get their hands on. They took all of the horses and goats, slaughtering one to eat as they celebrated their victory. They removed the bridles and saddles that Malik had worked hard on and replaced them with templar armor.

Malik groaned as he watched his life being ripped to shreds, the world was falling apart around him, and there was no one there to guide him. There was a distant neigh, and Malik looked up slightly.

Upon a hill, four survivors were free, on horseback. Malik realized as he stared, that his father was one of them. "Father!!" He shouted, he jumped up and tried to break away but was shoved back by two of his captors. "FATHER HELP US!" the desperate cry rang throughout the land and Malik struggled fiercely as the men tried to subdue him.

Their father watched from a safe distance. With him were two other young men and a young woman. They were untouched by the slaughter that had taken place, as they had fled before the attack; they gave no warning to the others and used them as a shield to save themselves. "Father please!! Please help us!!" Malik screamed over and over again until his throat was raw. If his father heard him, and Malik was sure he had, for he was looking straight at Malik and the other captives, he didn't care for their well being. He was a coward.

A coward, Malik realized.

He had abandoned them and left them at the templars mercy for his own sake! His mother was dead because of their cowardly father! "You bastard!!" He screamed, sruggling until he was shoved to the ground. "You bastard I'll never forgive you for this!! I'll never forgive you! You-" Malik was silenced by a kick to the head, which rendered him unconcsious as the templars began to chain up their prisoners.

* * *

Malik jerked awake in a cold sweat, panting harshly. It had been two years since that wretched day, and still nightmares plagued him.

Beside him, Kadar began to fidget in his sleep, abused by his own nightmares. The boy had stopped speaking after that day. When Malik had awoken, Kadar had locked up, and refused to speak, even when threatened or beaten. For two long years, Kadar was silent.

The survivors were traded off as slaves, and Malik was relieved to at least be taken with his brother. He wasn't happy with their current situation, but at least he could keep his promise and defend Kadar to the best of his abilities.

He groaned softly and wiped the layer of sweat of his face before gripping Kadar's hand, just to make sure he was, in fact, still there.

It had been a little less that two years since Malik and Kadar had been bought. Their master was an unpredictable, cruel man. They had been purchased in secret as the place were they were taken to didn't permit slavery; the strange and alluring city of Masyaf. The man had only taken Kadar to use him against Malik.

Malik was the one who worked, his body, though weakened by his capture and enslavement, was still strong, and their master made him work the fields he owned alone. If he was questioned, he was to claim that he was a farm hand for his uncle.

Kadar, had grown frail and thin. He'd fall sick at the drop of a hat and Malik feared for his life every waking moment. He was heavily chained in their master's house, used as a threat over Malik; if the older brother ever tried to escape or seek help, his brother would be killed. If he refused to work or screwed up badly, Kadar was the one beaten. It was an uncompromisable situation.

Malik felt his heartbeat quicken as Kadar began to gasp for air. The spell lasted for only a few moments before he began to breathe right again. Malik groaned again and grit his teeth. He had to do something, Kadar wouldn't last much longer if things didn't change. He had to keep his promise.

"It'll be ok Kadar..." he whispered quietly, more for his own comfort than his sleeping brother's. "I promise I'll get us out of here... just hold on, please."

Kadar's fidgeting stopped and Malik sighed in relief. He had no idea what to do if and when they escaped, but he couldn't care less at the time being. All that mattered was saving his brother from this life, even if it cost him his own.


	2. Mattock

Malik grit his teeth while beating the soil with his mattock. The sun was unbearably hot, and sweat kept dripping off of his nose while he worked.

He'd been tilling the field since dawn, and was slowly making progress, it didn't help that Masyaf had less than good soil, and if you wanted to yield any crops you had to work twice as hard.

Inside Kadar sat on their shared bed, still chained heavily and alone with their master.

A growl rose in Malik's throat as he thought of his dear brother, trapped inside while he was forced to stand by and watch. 

He took his anger out on the ground, digging into the earth violently while his hands gripped the mattock's handle in a vice.

Malik hated it, he hated that man; wished that he could kill him. He hated the templars for attacking them and killing his family, for taking him and his brother and selling them off. He hated his father for ditching them, for watching from a safe distance as his sons were humiliated and broken.

He hated himself, he hated that he'd failed to keep Kadar safe. Sure he was alive, but it was far from living, and farther from being safe.

Kadar had grown so weak, it pained Malik to see his ribs pressed against his sides, to see how pale he was, how dull and distant his eyes had become.

Why? Why did this have to happen to them? Why couldn't he fight back?

Malik groaned and felt shook his head, gritting his teeth until he felt a bit of blood in his mouth. He wasn't strong enough to take their master on, and it was foolish to do so anyway. Kadar was chained up and immobile; even if he managed to hold his own, there's no way theyd be able to escape. He couldn't free Kadar and fight at the same time.

He stared down at the blade of the mattock. It was rusted and dulled, too poor to use in the field. Their master was cheap though, and refused to buy another. Malik snorted and lifted it up, brushing off a dirt clod before running his finger of the edge.

For just a moment, he thought of it as a weapon. It wasn't as sharp as it once was, but it could still be used as a blunt weapon, capable of smashing in a skull.

He shook his head and grabbed the handle again. He lacked the confidence and skill, at best he'd manage to get a single blow in. The thought lingered though, and Malik shivered as he imagined finally being free.

There was the snap of a branch and Malik looked up towards the sound. The men in gray and white robes were active again today.

There were five of them, two were men, dressed in white with hoods hiding their faces. The other three were around his age, and dressed in hoodless gray robes.

Malik saw people like this often, though he never learned who they were or what they did, or why. They would search out flags that were sometimes placed near their master's house and Malik wondered if it was some soft of exercise.

Other times a single or pair of men in white would ride by on hourse back, sometimes with a gray cloaked boy in tow. He shook his head as the small group passed on and turned back to his work.

The day wore on, and the sun grew hot as it reached it's peak. 

Malik began to pant quietly while wiping sweat from his eyes and forehead. He still had hours left before he would be allowed to rest though and grit his teeth while tightening his grip on the mattock.

The group of men returned shortly after the sun reached it's peak, but Malik ignored them, just hoping to get a bit of work done to make future days easier.

He ground his teeth while listening around him. He could hear the strange group talking quietly but couldn't make out the words. He looked up briefly to watch and see if he could figure them out in any way.

The group paused and two of the boys in gray began to laugh before stopping to take a drink.

Malik immediately felt just how dry his throat was and groaned as the group stared to move on. He sighed and swallowed hard, but there wasn't any relief and he snorted while growing more agitated.

"Dammit" he huffed, trying to ignore the dull ache that radiated theough his entire body.

He panted hard, taking his frustration out on the mattock as he swung it toward the ground with such force that the iron blade broke off completely.

Panic gripped him suddenly and Malik dropped the handle of the now useless tool. Their master would be pissed, Kadar would pay dearly for this mistake and Malik choked on a breath, falling to his knees and trying desperately to reattach the blade to the shaft.

Several minutes passed with no success and Malik winced as he realized that there was nothing he could do.

"Sh-shit." He shuddered and stood, grabbing both pieces of the mattock before trudging back towards the house. Perhapes if he begged, he could take Kadar's punishment.

A knot twisted in Malik's stomach as he approached the door, he knew that tonight would most likely end with blood and bruises. With a reluctant sigh, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Kadar...

Kadar stood in the middle of the room his back turned to Malik, his shackles were finally removed and laying in a pile beside him. Their master sat in a chair in front of Kadar, his hands travelling all over his body as if inspecting an animal.

Kadar turned his head when he heard the door open, confusion and fear written in his eyes as their master's hands stopped on Kadar's prominent hips.

"You'll likely bring in a lot of money if I sell you at night, hehe, I know a lot of men that would pay for an even an hour with you little one." Their master said cruelly, giving a nasty grin.

Malik felt his blood boil as he understood what their master ment and stepped forward, finally becoming noticed by the pig that held Kadar.

"What are you doing here boy?" He growled, glaring at Malik who returned the stare with such venom, a cobra would be put to shame.

"You rat." Malik hissed quietly, though his voice was filled with a dangerous tone that their master completely overlooked. Malik gripped the mattock tightly and walked forward, glare hardening and teeth bared like a wolf.

"The hell did you just say to me boy?! I'll flay you and your brother's backs for that!" Their master threatened, grabbing a home-made whip. 

Malik's glare stayed though and a vicious snarl came from him as he raised the base of the mattock. Their master had never planned on Malik rebelling though, and was caught off guard as he swug it against their master's head and a furious crack resonated through the room.

Their master crumbled to the floor with a pained cry, followed by pathetic groans. Kadar's eyes widened and he stepped away from the man who had touched him and his brother, who looked more dangerous than the templars who'd ruined them.

"You dare," Malik paused to bring the wooden handle down again, "touch my brother," and again, "like that?!" And again. He snarled again and grew impossibly more enraged. He swung harder and harder, reveling in the crack of broken bones and agonized cries.

"I'll kill you, you bastard!! How dare you do this to us! How dare you treat us this way! How dare you even think to use my brother like that!!" Malik was screaming now and couldn't stop, he kept beating their master until finally he went still.

The eldest panted harshly as he stared down at the motionless man, blood was splattered on the ground and on what remained of Malik's clothes, his hands trembled and the mattock slipped out of his bloodied fingers onto the ground.

Kadar whimpered softly, having returned to his corner. Malik turned to face him and sighed. "It's ok brother, he won't hurt you again, I promise..." he said, gentle tone returning.

Kadar seemed to relax and nodded silently. Malik, hesitated and turned back to look at their master's body. My god he'd killed him.

His stomach clenched in dread of the crime he's just comitted. He'd actually killed this man, willingly, declaring it at the top of his lungs. He shuddered and took a few steps back, feeling nauseous. He tried to not look and instead stared at Kadar quietly. His mind raced at a hundred miles an hour while he tried to understand the gravity of what had just taken place. 

Oh god he had murdered this man.

Despite the fact that he had wanted to kill this man so badly, Malik's stomach tightened in a knot and he feared losing everything in it. 

"Don't look Kadar..." he said firmly, shuddering and turning towards his brother. "We have to go, come on."

Kadar swallowed loudly and curled in on himself. Malik knew he was afraid and didn't blame him, the last two years of their lives had been as slave's trapped in a house with a bastard that abused them for amusement. 

Malik walked up to his little brother and knealed down in front of him. "Hey, it'll be ok. Didn't I tell you I would take care of you?" He grinned ever so slightly.

Kadar nodded but he still looked scared. He looked down and his eyes betrayed the pain he was feeling. Malik knew he wanted their mother and father to be there with them. To guide and protect them from the uncertain future.

Malik grit his teeth. Their mother was dead, and their father was a cowardly run-away.

"I'm here Kadar. I won't let anything ever happen to you again. I promise." He said gently, smiling down at his brother. "I'll protect you, I'm stronger now. You'll be ok." He added, before standing up and reaching his hand out to his brother.

Kadar stared up at his brother timidly, and hesitated as he stretched his own hand out, grasping his brother's hand and allowing Malik to pull him to his feet.

Malik gave him a reassuring nod, and pat his head. Kadar's eyes widened in fear and Malik tilted his head. "Kadar what's wrong? you're ok now." he asked.

Kadar trembled as he pointed past his brother and whined in distress.

Malik's blood froze as he heard their master growl and spun to face him, only to be met with a fist against his jaw.

Malik stumbled back and fell, eyes widening in panic as he realized their freedom was still held in the hands of this now furious and dangerous man.

"Kadar!" he shouted, scrambling to get to his brother and defend him.

Their master snarled and crept up on the two, hungry for revenge. Malik knew that he had only one chance, he had to get Kadar out, and it didn't matter if he followed. 

He spread his arms out to shield his brother and glared at their master "Run Kadar!" he snapped, repeating himself with more passion when the younger refused to leave Malik's side.

"Run! run now Kadar! I'll follow you!" he screamed, kicking back to snap Kadar out of it.

Kadar hesitated only a moment longer before taking off. Their master reached out to grab him but Malik jumped in the way each time, until Kadar scurried out the door and into freedom.

"Your fight's with me not him!" Malik snarled once Kadar was safe. His master growled and smirked.

"You have no weapon now mouse, I'll break your neck you little shit!" he said dangerously, tackling Malik and pinning him to the ground easily.

Malik shouted as he tried to fight back, beating his fists and kicking wherever he could to cause damage; even so he was still too small and frail from neglect and abuse to help himself.

Blows rained down from his master and Malik felt his heart clentch up in fear, he was surely doomed to die here.

Slowly, Malik began to give in. He had at least kept his promise to protect Kadar, and now it didn't matter if he lived.

His aching limbs grew weaker as his body gave out and he was no longer able to shield himself from the beating. "Finish it already!" he spat in exhaustion.

His master smirked and wrapped his hands around Malik's neck, squeezing tightly while Malik screwed his eyes shut. this was it, it was time for him to go, and though he was a little fearful of death, he was glad that it was his own life and not Kadar's

His head throbbed as air was kept from him and Malik sputtered to keep just a few breaths coming, drool fell from his lips as he strained for oxygen. 

His master smirked and pressed harder, drawing a breathless squeak from his victim. The room began to darken for Malik and he forced his body to calm itself, it was time to return to his mother.

Air.

His lungs were suddenly full of air and Malik gasped heavily as his vision and movement returned to him. 

He sat up and gaped as he saw his master, laying on his side and groaning in pain while Kadar stood behind him, clutching the mattock's handle tightly.

"Kadar." he murmured. He turned to their master who was already starting to get up and sneered in victory. "Hurry Kadar!" he barked, taking his brother's hand and charging out into the sunlight.

The two ran blindly, their master gave chase and was never too far behind, they entered the main part of Masyaf's town and tried to escape in the crowd.

They both panted heavily and struggled to stay ahead, after two years of being locked up, their bodies weren't used to this amount of stress and strain.

"Come on Kadar!" Malik shouted, practically dragging his brother along. They didn't care about the commotion they were causing and Malik even went so far and to shove a man twice his size aside to escape their master.

White passed through Malik's vision, and he felt his heart jump with the fear a prey animal feels when it knows there's more than one predator.

Kadar cried out and Malik felt a heavy weight land ontop of him, pulling him and his brother to the ground.

Malik snarled and thrashed. "Let us go you bastards!" he screamed, though he was quickly silenced as a cold blade was pressed against his neck. He slowly turned hi head and swallowed when he saw one of the men in white robes on his back. 

"Let us go, please he'll kill us!" he rasped.

The man above him hesitated before quietly rising to his feet, pulling Malik up with him.

Malik looked to his brother who was also restrained by the hooded men and growled. "If you hurt him I'll kill you all!" he spat.

He heard the hooded man above him laugh softly and hissed, he opened his mouth to give a snarky response but his attention was captured as two hooded men drug their master foward. 

"Let me go! I've done nothing wrong!" he yelled, struggling against the men that held him to no avail. "I'll make sure your master will punish you for attacking an innocent like me!"

The man who held Malik spoke up. "Shut up already, your voice is so annoying." he barked, his voice full of authority. "Quit complaining and explain what is going on and why we are having to deal with this shit."

Malik looked up at his captor and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by their master.

"It's those two worthless brats!" he began, pointing an accusing finger at the brothers. "I took them in after their mother, who is my sister, and their father were killed by templars, but they repay me by attacking me and trying to run off! They're mad and full of evil! They should be killed to prevent it from infecting the rest of the city!

"Youre wrong!!" Malik shouted, baring his teeth as rage shook his body. "You damn liar! We were slaves! you bought us from a templar caravan after our family was killed and kept us as slaves for two years!" he spat.

Their master growled and he shook his head. "That proves you are mad! You know not what you even say!" he yelled.

"Check under my brother's clothes! you'll see the abuse and neglect he's suffered for two years now! look at the bruises he wears and how far out his bones are!" Malik roared, blood rang in his ears and he glared at their master dangerously.

The man who held Kadar turned to the man who held Malik and spoke up. "The boy is correct Massium, the smaller one is in very poor condition compared to that man. what shall we do?" he asked.

Malik's captor was silent for a moment then tuned to their Master. "If what the boy says is true and you did indeed keep them as slaves, they you will be killed for breaking the law that was put in place by our master." he said in a firm, dangerous tone.

"I swear, they are my nephews! they are mad and need to be killed! I would never risk punishment by disobeying you assassins!" their master cried, words tumbling out of his mouth endlessly to protect himself, it disgusted Malik, but one word stuck out to him. Assassin.

He looked up at his captor while his master babbled on. This man was an assassin? He stared up into the shadow of the hood, trying to see the face that was hidden there, but found he could not.

"Enough of this, I've hear quite enough." the assassin, Massium barked. "I've learned who says the truth. Kill him." he ordered. Malik's eyes widened and he watched as in a spit second a blade was buried into either side of their master's side by the two assassin's that held him captive. 

A terrible choking noise came from their master as blood pooled in his mouth and fell from his lips. His eyes remained open, even after the light of life had left, and the assassin's let him fall off their blades onto the now bloodied ground.

Malik couldn't help but stare, one moment the man had been alive, and now he was dead. It was such a horrible thing, even though he himself had nearly killed the man. 

"Massium, what do we do with these two?" the assassins holding Kadar asked.

Malik's heart pounded and he began to struggle again. "Let us go! we'll leave this place and never return, don't hurt my brother!" he snarled, trying desperately to get to Kadar.

Massium let go of Malik amd the youn boy stumbled forward, tripping onto his knees. "Take it easy boy, we don't kill innocents." he sad, sheathing his sword ad nodding at the man who held Kadar.

Kadar rushed forward the moment he was released and hid behind his brother, watching timidly.

Massium put his hands on his hips and lowered his hood, to reveal a man with dusty brown hair and silver eyes, a long scar ran from his left eyebrow, barely missing his eye, down to his chin. 

"You two are quite the trouble makers it seems. You've caused alot of caos today for the villagers and my men." Massium grinned lightly and Malik glared.

"I did what was necessary to protect my brother!" Malik spat and raised his fists as if to fight, getting up onto his feet. "I'll fight all of you if you try to lay a hand on Kadar." 

Massium's grin grew and his eyes flickered in amusement. "You truly care about your brother don't you?" he asked.

Malik faultered and nodded quietly. "I'm the only one he has left now, templars destroyed our family, and I have to keep him safe, when I'm older I'll kill the templars, and anyone else that tries to harm him." he replied harshly.

Massium nodded and cleared his throat. "In that case, come with us. We always have room for more novices" he said suddenly.

Malik dropped his defensive stance in confusion. "What!?" he barked, "Why would we do that?!" glaring at Massium when the assassin began to laugh.

"You sure are a little spitfire kid, but listen; you and your brother won't survive a day on your own in this world. you'll starve or be attacked by wolves or slavers. You'll grow ill or hurt yourselves or end up in the middle of a battle and be killed. However, we have a place for boys like you. Boys who want to fight back, take back the lives that were stolen from them. if you come with us, you'll be fed and warm. we'll train you to fight templars and how to protect your brother." Massium stretched his hand out towards Malik. "Become an assassin and take back your life boy."

Malik blinked in disbelief. "What you're saying... my brother will be safe if we join you?" he asked hesitantly. The assassin nodded. 

"You'll never have to worry over him again." Massium replied.

Air wooshed out of Malik and the boy fell to his knees, staring wide eyed at the assassin's boots. "Take us with you..." he murmured, slowly looking up to Massium's face. "Make us assassins."

**Author's Note:**

> Please take my phone away from me this chapter is absurdly long and I fear for my health, I wrote this instead of sleeping. Pray for me people.


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